Behind Linked Fences
by Shadows of the Dead
Summary: AU. Ryou Bakura is a young, aspiring psychiatrist just out of school. His first job? Working at John Miller Rehab Center, where he met Bakura.Somehow, he doesn't think being threatened and kissed by his patient in the first session is a good beginng.
1. Prologue

  
  
The rain pounded incessantly on the rooftops, the heavy glass windows stained with clear crystals of heaven's tears. Outside, droplets of rain fell from a sky blackened by ominous storm clouds, the drops gathering to form numerous streams of muddied water that came together and broke apart, forming intricate paths that flowed out from the empty, desolate yard to nowhere. Overhead, lightning flashed, thunder boomed, and the moaning gusts of wind picked up, carrying with it the sounds of the violently rustling trees and the eerie wail of lost souls without a home to go back to. The almighty forces of nature seemed determined to conquer the insignificant man-made structures and level them down to the ground. But the silent concrete buildings stood tall, undaunted by the storm. Undeterred, Nature gathered herself for another assault upon the forever voiceless walls.  
  
However, all that belongs to the world outside. Inside, against the fearsome screams of the sky that have been reduced to a disconsolate murmur, brightly lit lights shone harshly down upon the room, throwing all of its angles and shadows into sharp relief, at odds with the malevolent weather outside, and the pitiable conditions inside. For on the few small windows the room possesses, there were bars. Bars not meant to keep something out, but rather, to keep something in. The same bars that guard the windows stood at the doors, making up for one whole side of the small, cramped room. The room itself, although brightly lit, glaringly lacked the warm, welcoming feelings present in a home. For this is not a home that its inhabitants willingly return to, or even willingly referred to as a home, not one where one is loved and loved back in return. Absent were the furniture, the everyday comforts and necessities. What is present, however, are the four teens, some trying to sleep against the glaring light, some fruitlessly trying to pass the time and ease the endless boredom. The true state of barrenness of the room could be seen as the boys lain themselves on bunk beds that were stripped of everything but a thin quilt or sat cross- legged on the cold stone floor that occasionally, would become the visiting ground for cockroaches. These supposedly violent teens, the thieves and rapists and killers, seemed somehow less sinful of the atrocities they have committed, as they were deprived of everything that made life worthwhile, their possessions, their rights, their parents and loved ones. Silent and gaunt, they slept fitfully while the cold, condescending guards patrolled outside their jail cells.  
  
They are the inmates.  
  
Behind Linked Fences  
  
A Yugioh Fanfiction  
  
By Mikage  
  
Chapter One  
  
Ryou Bakura signed and flipped open the file again, staring at it as if by merely glaring, the offensive file lying innocently-and, at the same time, haphazardly- upon his otherwise immaculate desk would spontaneously burst into flames and dissipate into a little pile of harmless ashes that, contrary to its predecessor, would definitely NOT be ruining his day right now.  
  
It didn't work. The file, in fact, didn't even bat an eyelash, apparently unfazed at the murderous glare currently being heaped upon its innocuous head.  
  
Ryou heaved another sigh-really, he has been sighing far too much lately. He probably would be growing white hairs if his hair wasn't already silver. But was it his fault nothing seems to go right since his transfer here? No, he didn't think so.  
  
Unwillingly, his gaze shifted to the black and white print on his patient's file. By the looks of it, he's going to be in for some rough times. The kid is a potential time bomb, waiting to explode. Perhaps, he had already exploded, and he was just expected to pick up the pieces, whatever that's left, that is. Theft, a history of drug abuse, grand theft auto, he's done it all. Assault, arson, homicide... the list goes on. Oh he is going to have fun with this one, Ryou thought sarcastically, biting back the irrational urge to scream. He was not going to let some just-out-of-highschool adolescent drive him insane, at least not without meeting this absolutely charming individual first. Although, he reflected, after the meeting, he might not have a long ways to go.  
  
He looked at the blank square in the upper-left most corner of the page. Photo Not Available. He probably threatened anyone with bodily injuries if they dared to approach him with a camera, Ryou thought sourly and uncharitably.  
  
He had just came to this rehab center just last week, and immediately this case had been thrown to him, not just figuratively. Apparently, even though no one on the staff would admit it, they were all at a loss when it comes to how to deal with such a violent and moody delinquent, and was only giving him this case because no one else want it on their plate. And who knows, they probably figured, maybe the newbie would stumble onto some small forms of success.  
  
The young psychiatrist grabbed the mug of long-cold coffee and, after tasting it, made a face. Well, they aren't going to get rid of me this easily, the young psychiatric counselor thought determinedly, putting down the coffee after a grimace. He may be much younger than the other counselors in age, and he may have just gotten out of college, but he is every bit as good as any of them. Obviously, the one thing he is lacking is experience, but didn't everyone when they each started working? He will gain the experience he needs, but not by shirking his duties and leaving the difficult cases to others.  
  
And besides, he, unlike his co-workers, actually cares.  
  
He has seen the inmates, had seen the way the brutal and callous guards treated them, had seen the fragmented remnants of their once passionate, alive spirits shining through their eyes, only they are shining no longer, defeated, repressed, broken. And he cares. He wanted to help them, wanted to guide them back towards the path, wanted to save their souls.  
  
Ryou repressed a snort. Since when was he given to philosophical musings and idealistic preachings? All he was here for is to try and salvage what was left of a bunch of teenage delinquents, and he harbored no expectations: if he can help even one of thme, it would surpass everyone's expectations, even his own. The number of people who get out on parole and gets sent right back in merely a few months, maybe even weeks, later is staggering. The juveniles' efforts to survive, both in the state prison and out in the real world, overshadows everything else to the point of exclusion, even their hope for rehabilitation, if they had possessed any in the first place.  
  
Ryou Bakura wanted to change that. If he could alter one person and help them, even if it was the smallest possible way, he would, no matter the cost to himself. And he has already begun to pay the price. Being the youngest, and quite possibly, the only psychiatrist who has graduated from university with a degree and a license to practice at the tender young age of 21. Perhaps he really is too young. And with that depressing and very discouraging thought, all of Ryou's past fears and doubts came crashing back to the surface.  
  
He sighed and stood up, walking to the window and shook his hair free from the confinement of a loose ponytail. They hung down past his shoulders, messy and un-kept strands that nevertheless shone in the light, glowing a radiant silver, transforming him from an ordinary-although admittedly georgerous-man to something heavenly, something untouchable.  
  
But only for a moment.  
  
Ryou turned away from the view of the busy street below with a sigh, and any possible onlookers can see that he is merely a mortal, one who just passed his gate to adulthood and was already weary from his first real look at the world. Is that why so many adults seem to lose their zeal for living? Ryou wondered distractedly, mind still on his challenging case(which is now looking to be a trial in resisting migraines, it seemed). He was only 22, and already he was tired. Imagining having that to look forward to for the rest of his life. He grimaced and grinned sardonically. At least he can truthfully say he have an interesting job. Maybe too interesting is the problem...  
  
Grabbing his jacket that is lying desolately on his couch in his apartment at the top of the eleven-story building, he left the room, pausing only to lock his door against any miscreants that may possess the intention of robbing him(not that he have anything particularly valuable to rob).  
  
Its time to meet his patient.  
  
End of Chapter One  
  
Author's Notes: Hi everyone. This is my first debut into the world of fanfiction, so I hope everyone will forgive and point out any errors that I may have inadvertently made. (and I'm sure, there will be many)  
  
Now, onto the dedication:  
  
To Blackmoonlight(aka Rosie-chan), because her SuperGlareTM is motivation for any authoress with a healthy amount of fear for death and/or her torture methods. =3 Thank you for encouraging me to start this fic when I had the idea but wasn't certain if I should. I love you onee-chan!!!!!!!  
  
The second order of business: I realize that this is very short for a fanfic, and I am truly sorry. The next installation will be MUCH longer, I promise.  
  
Ok, I realize no one likes long author notes, and I'll try not to ramble on too much, but just for future reference, all disclaimers will be at the beginning of the story rather than the end. For now, the disclaimer:  
  
Mikage(aka Miki) does not own the characters and situations of Yugioh. The author does not, or aim to, make any money off of this piece of fanfiction that is used for purely entertainment purposes. Any names, places, or situation that happens to coincide with reality is accidental and was unintentional. Any original plot, situations, and characters are copyrighted by Mikage and therefore not available for distribution. Please do not plagiarize.  
  
Till next time,  
  
Miki  
  
Ps: Begging isn't my style, but constructive criticism and encouraging comments are greatly welcomed. Any flames will be disregarded, and spread among friends for entertainment. 


	2. Meet the Patient

Behind Linked Fences 

Disclaimer: Mikage does not own Yugioh, if she did, there would be considerately more leather and yaoi.=3 Yugioh is the rightful property of Kazuki Takahashi and others. The authoress does not make any profit off of this piece of fiction.

Warning: Shounen Ai. Slight language.

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Cell number 23, Solitary Confinement, Third floor of John C. Miller Youth Correctional Facility

Darkness. It is everywhere. Suffocating him, choking him every time he opened his mouth to gasp in a ragged breath. Filling his lungs, poisoning him with its soft, all enveloping miasma. The darkness is so thick that it felt like a physical presence, as if he could just reach out, and touch its inky blackness. It's as if he could cut through it with a knife, but he couldn't. And he felt the absence, the absence of _everything_, in the bitter taste of fear in his mouth, in the first cautious stirrings of terror in his heart.

Bakura hated it. He hated the dark, hated the utter absence of light, and most of all, hated that helpless feeling that being in the dark gave him every time. Something about seeing nothing, no matter how hard he strained his eye for a glimpse of anything, anything at all, unnerved him. Reminded him of being in a coffin that is nailed shut, with no way to escape.

In the encompassing darkness, there is nothing to do but think.

And think.

And think.

Bakura Yashiro scoffed to himself and turned on his thread-bare bed to face the wall. In the kind of life he and others like him lead, there's no room for thinking.

A rat scurried across the stone floor, its terrified high squeaking and its small, sharp claws clicking against the ground the only sound breaking the unnaturally still silence in the cell. Bakura heaved a sigh and played with the silver dagger the guards failed to find and confiscate, his mind, having found nothing else to entertain it with, begin to drift off into the blessedly unconscious land of sleep.

Footsteps.

Bakura immediately snapped into consciousness, years of life on the streets and numerous incidents of sudden gang attacks causing his wry body to tense reflexively, ready to spring up at a moment's notice.

The steel door opened and light flooded the room, inadequately blocked by the guard, his figure blurred at the edges by rays of harsh artificial light. Several roaches scattered away from the blinding rays as fast as their tiny little legs can manage.

"Get up," the voice, long ago made hoarse from shouting at unruly inmates, barked. "You're meeting with the new counselor now."

Smirking sadistically, as was his usual wont, the teen delinquent agilely flipped down onto the ground, heedless of the handcuffs that locked and bit into his wrists. "Lead the way," he said to the waiting guard, who glared at him for his impertinence but did nothing else for lack of anything more discriminating.

Humming merrily underneath his breath now, Bakura marched smartly out of Solitary and down the dimly lit hall with his surly guard in tow, his mood much improved by his remembrance of the last counselor that had held the unfortunate and undesired position. Who knew she would object so strongly to a few threats and one or two measly knife slashes?

Stopping in front of a white-washed door, the guard-yet still un-named, poor guy- searched him, again missing the hidden dagger, and pushed him in roughly, apparently tired of his self-satisfied attitude, closing the door behind him. Through the small steel enforced glass window in the door, Bakura could see the guard taking up his post just outside.

He turned, ready to deliver a scathing and, hopefully, cutting remark, when he was stopped dead by his first glance at the immaculately groomed man sitting behind a simple wooden desk. The man looks just like himself! Except.... Different. Frozen in shock, he let his eyes travel to the new counselor's face once more, this time much slower than the original cursory glance, his gaze unconsciously lingering on the porcelain skin, silver locks-different from his own spiky strands- that gleamed as if spun from moonlight, and soft eyes the color of melted chocolate.

Gods, the man was

----------------------------------

Beautiful, Ryou realized, letting out a breath he hasn't realized he was holding.

Then he immediately checked himself. Where did that come from? As far as he knows, he is not gay, has never been attracted to those of his own gender, so why now? And why towards someone who by all rights could have passed for himself? Isn't that a bit too narcissistic? But it is hard not to notice the unruly silver hair, only a shade darker than his own snowy tresses, his bangs that stood wildly in all directions, his piercing, crimson tinged brown eyes, his golden tanned skin....

Whoa. Let's just stop that train of thought before it goes any further, shall we?

His conscience, which up until that point had been silent, now screamed at him, backed up by warning bells in his head. You are the psychiatric counselor, how professional it would look to have fantasies about your _patient_, of all people? It reminded him.

Ryou blinked, and, realizing that he was expected to say something, blushed and then immediately cursed his misfortune of being born with naturally pale skin.

He looked up and opened his mouth, prepared to initiate a conversation, to comment on the startling and disturbing similarities between them, or at the very least, say _something_ to break the uncomfortable silence, but was cut off by the nonchalant voice of the teen in front of him.

"Aren't you a little too young to be a shrink?"

He blinked again and stood up, pushing his chair away from his desk. Conjuring up his most authoritative and haughty expression, he swept Bakura a look of patient exasperation, as if he had gotten this attitude many times before-oh wait, he had. He frowned, "I assure you, I am fully qualified for this position, the issue of my age is insignificant compared to my suitability and knowledge required for this job."

"I don't care about whether you think you are suitable for this or not, within a month, you won't be." Came the flippant reply and an insolent stare.

Ryou's spine stiffened, and he straightened, staring back at those brown eyes-so much like his!-without fear. "Is that a threat?"

Bakura Yashiro smirked.

"Consider it a promise."

Ryou narrowed his eyes, having a hard time containing his disbelief at what is occurring. This is not turning out to be a good first session. Or a good first impression either, for that matter. The boy's confidence is... unnerving, to say the least. Add the obvious similarity of their appearance, and this whole interview is proving to be quite a fiasco. "And what makes you promise that?"

A dismissive flick of his hand.

"After I'm done with them, the previous counselors couldn't wait to leave this hell hole. And just how old _are_ you anyway?"

Refusing to back down from what he knows is a test, Ryou leaned forward, putting both his hands on the table in front of him, never breaking eye contact with Bakura, "Twenty two. And I can promise _you_, that when this month is over, you'll hardly be seeing the last of me."

Striding forward a few paces, the teen grabbed the lapels of his shirt, regardless of the handcuffs that still held both his hands together, and crushed his lips to the stunned psychiatrist's, bruising Ryou's lips with its force.

Ryou's mouth dropped open in shock. Which might or might not be regarded as a good thing, because then Bakura, taking advantage of his conveniently open mouth, slipped his tongue inside and oh my... Blood rushed to Ryou's head, making him dizzy with the effort of standing.

At that moment, the guard rushed in and pulled Bakura away from him. Breathing heavily, Ryou stared at the smirking teen, who looked like the proverbial cat who ate the canary. Eyes smoldering, he whispered,

"I'll look forward to it."

Before being dragged off by the guard, who, before leaving, shot Ryou a look that said quite clearly, "That was pathetic" and marched out with an unresisting and openly grinning Bakura.

Ryou slumped back into his chair, stunned.

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Hey everyone! Yes, I'm back, hope you haven't dismissed me as a lost cause already. ;;; I'm really sorry it took so long, and believe me, no one is sorrier than me, but life's been evil, and inspiration hard to come by. –sigh- Anyway, hope you all enjoyed this chapter, however short it is. ;;;

Once again, this chapter is dedicated to YueLian, my imouto(aka Rosie), b/c of her unwavering dedication and enthusiasm. =3 Hope u liked it, imouto-chan!

Hugs and kisses goes out to all 13 of u who reviewed(Yue-chan reviewed twice....), I couldn't have made it through all the times when I felt like deleting the crappy first chapter without all of you. Keep reviewing, and I'll keep going.

Ai Baka-chan Austra: Thank you, I'm glad you didn't think the intro was too long-winded. =3

Bluediamond: Wow....I don't know what to say. Thank you so much! It did help a lot. I'm glad you agree with my perception of Ryou, that he is actually very strong mentally. Thank you for pointing out my grammar mistakes, I make them on a regular basis(my eng teacher hates me for it;;). That said, if you are still interested in being my beta reader, I would be honored to accept. And don't worry, you didn't insult me or anything.

DojomistressAmbyChan: I'm currently debating on whether or not to add the other characters later on. I most probably will, but I want to concentrate on the Ryou/Bakura development.

Crimson Nightmare: Thank you. I like to think that this plot was my original idea, but I guess someone else already took it. I haven't read the fic you are talking about, but I assure you I didn't plagiarize from her or any other authors out there. I hope mine will be very different from hers.;;; Wow.. a lot of ppl grasped how I wanted Ryou to be portrayed, I'm pleased. =3

Katia-chan: Thanks. Wow..you even used quotes from the story in your review! o-o –feels loved- =3 yes, my grammar leaves much to be desired, and if you want to be my beta(along with Bluediamond, wow.. two ppl), I would appreciated it very much. email me if you get the chance!

Yue Lian: -shakes head- Imouto-chan... wat am I going to do with you? You're so adorable... cute that you reviewed twice, but not necessary in the future. just write me a really long one and we'll call it even. Glad you liked the picture I drew for you. =3 talk to you soon, sweetie!

Everyone, thank you so much for your support! Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it, and please bear with me(and my mistakes) in the future!

Keep reviewing!!

Miki


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